Only When Prompted
by WritingAmateur
Summary: A collection of short vignettes and drabbles based on prompts/quotations. This is just me practicing quick writing. Trustshipping, Prideshipping, Peachshipping, Polarshipping, and more!
1. Carry

**Prompt: **"I'll carry you, hold still or it'll hurt more."

**Pairing: **Seto x Ishizu (Trustshipping)

* * *

"Ishizu, you _cannot_ expect me to think you can do this."

Seto's ankle still smarted, his pant leg rolled up to his calf as he cradled his throbbing foot in his hands.

Perhaps an evening going dancing had not been in his best interest.

Ishizu stood over him, hands on hips, eyes narrowed. How had he managed to do this during what had to be the simplest of waltzes?

She let out a sigh at his petulant tone. "What—you think I _can't_ carry you? I've lugged ancient marble sculptures up flights of stairs with only one or two assistants."

"Yes, but—" _As if I would let my girlfriend carry me off the dance floor like a child. I'd rather die._

Well, perhaps that was a bit dramatic.

Ishizu rolled her eyes. "Seto, dear," she said through gritted teeth, "people are _starting to stare._"

Seto fought the urge to pout. "Fine…"

Graceful as an ocean wave, Ishizu bent down in her 3-inch heels, grabbed Seto by his shoulders, and lifted him onto her back so that his arms crossed around her neck, his good foot dragging on the ground behind him.

Seto buried his face in Ishizu's neck, trying to hide his sudden blush. "How the _hell_ are you doing this? Am I secretly dating Wonder Woman?"

Ishizu bit back a smirk as she responded:

"You'll never know, will you?"


	2. Meeting

**Prompt: **"As Seto Kaiba left Kaiba Manor, she didn't bother straightening her jacket in the foyer mirror. She was confident she looked more than fine—attractive in a way her enemies would find disarming."

**Pairing: **Girl!Seto x Ishizu

* * *

As Seto Kaiba left Kaiba Manor, she didn't bother straightening her jacket in the foyer mirror. She was confident she looked more than fine—attractive in a way her enemies would find disarming.

And, hopefully, Ishizu Ishtar would find… tantalizing? She shook her head to rid herself of the silly thought, despite the downright graphic, often tender feelings she did find herself having when she thought of the seraphic Egyptian woman.

She slid into the limousine and caught a glimpse of herself in the tinted window. Damn. She was going for imperious and professional, not meltingly, devastatingly attractive. Perhaps the fact that she was meeting the aforementioned curator for lunch (a business lunch, mind you, she reminded herself begrudgingly) had put that flush of crimson in her cheeks, that positively animal glint in her eyes. Yet who was she to complain?

Ishizu, for her part, found it hard to resist the charms of the confident, veering-on-haughty CEO who sat across from her. It was a mite difficult to focus on business matters with that knowing look, that smirk on those reddened lips challenging her at every turn, making her forget herself, her manners.

She squeezed her thighs together under the table, sure her face was bright red. This gesture did not escape Seto's notice, who reached a hand under the tablecloth and brushed it against Ishizu's covered knee.

Ishizu bit back a sigh as thoughts of professionalism and business flew from both their heads.

Both of them knew that Seto Kaiba had laid her trap quite well.

What Seto Kaiba wanted, she got.


	3. Cry

**Prompt: **"Stop crying and listen to me."

**Pairing: **Seto x Ishizu (Trustshipping)

* * *

Ishizu blinked back the tears that threatened to pour from her eyes as she gripped Seto's fingers tightly, like they were the only anchor in a world that was drowning, drowning.

Seto pressed his lips to her forehead, his voice gentler this time. "Please, Ishizu… I wish you would stop crying. There's nothing either of us can do about this."

Ishizu sniffed, knowing full well how much like a sopping rag she must have looked. "Yes, but… but… three _years, _Seto. That's quite—quite a lot of time for you to be away." _Away from Domino, away from—from me._

He ran his fingers along the curve of her back, hoping to soothe her sobs and to calm the hammering of his heartbeat. Three years was quite a long time to be away for business, no less. And while the offer had seemed good when he'd agreed to it a year prior, things… had come up since then. _Important things—things I don't know if I can risk losing_.

_How uncanny. How inconvenient._

Ishizu slumped her shoulders and buried her face in her hands. "I—I just wish that we could have had more time together before you leave." _It's only been a few weeks. _

Seto moved his lips to above her ear, hand moving to the small of her back. "Three years _is _a fucking long time, Ishizu. I didn't _exactly plan on this _when I agreed to this opportunity."

"I know." Ishizu looked up at him, trying to steel herself. "It's not something you _can _plan…"

Seto closed his eyes briefly, an unspoken prayer fluttering from his lips. He looked back at her and took his hand in his. "Will… oh god, I _cannot_ believe I'm asking this… will you wait for me? While I'm gone?" _Please. Please. I know this sounds utterly ridiculous, but…_

Ishizu pressed her lips together and widened her eyes.

Her lips curled in a sad smile. "As if there were any other option."


	4. Tango

**Prompt:** Argentine Tango.

**Pairing: **Seto x Ishizu

* * *

Ishizu huffed in annoyance as her feet failed to obey her mental commands. _This should not be this difficult. I am a woman of poise, of grace..._

_This damned tango will be the death of me._

Seto noticed her rapidly souring mood and smirked, pressing his hand firmly against her back, heated flesh burning through her shirt. His other hand held hers firmly; or rather, she clutched at his raised hand as if she would surely trip over her own feet.

It seemed as if the unflappable Ishizu Ishtar, despite her many charms, her immaculate control over her movements, was utterly _rubbish_ at dancing.

He nearly crowed in delight at the positively _adorable_ wrinkle between her brows, at her determined yet useless efforts at getting her feet and body to flow correctly with the music, at how _frustrated_ they made her.

_God_. She nearly unmade him every time.

"Should I go grab us a rose?" he whispered into her ear with mock innocence, his breath on her neck certainly not helping her concentration any. "Perhaps that would help?" He fought back a husky chuckle.

Ishizu narrowed her eyes at him, cheeks breaking out in a flush. "Come on, Seto. I can do this. This _cannot_ be that hard for me..."

His nearness was proving most distracting, as it so often did.

Seto smiled rather wickedly and moved his hand to the small of her back, moving his lips to her temple. He noticed the hitch in her breath with delight.

"Honestly, Ishizu, I have no idea why this is _so hard_ for you," he quipped, pressing a tiny kiss on that wrinkle on her forehead. "It's just simple steps..."

Ishizu rolled her eyes. "Seto, please do not mock me. I am _quite_ serious about learning to dance-I have no idea why it has proven so much harder for me than it has for you."

Her voice trailed off as Seto gently moved her on the dance floor, resuming the languid, sensual steps of the tango. _Oh God, please do not let me trip... again..._

"I think you're... _overthinking things_," he murmured, moving his thumb in a circle against her blouse, her back. Ishizu bit the inside of her cheek to keep her breathing in check.

Seto noticed this, as he noticed everything.

"It's not just about knowing the steps," he continued silkily.

Ishizu looked up at him, eyes wide with confusion.

Seto took this opportunity to press his hips against hers, coloring her cheeks that _delectable_ scarlet again.

"You have to _feel_ it."


	5. Karaoke

**Prompt: **Karaoke + Trustshipping

**Pairing: **Seto x Ishizu

* * *

"Remind me _why_ we went out with the damn Peanut Gallery again?" hissed Seto to Ishizu, who lowered the glass of red wine from her lips and responded:

"Because they invited us and consider us—well, you, at least, however quixotic that attempt may be—to be friends. It's _polite. And harmless_."

_Honestly, would it truly kill Seto Kaiba to be sociable for once?_

One look at his positively curmudgeonly expression as he sat next to her, the pair of them packed tightly into a booth in some dive bar with Yugi, Téa, Joey, Tristan, Serenity, Duke, Bakura, and Mai, and it was clear that yes, in some way, this endeavor possibly _would._

Seto tucked his chin to his chest miserably, crossing his arms in front of him on the table. "Like _hell_ it's harmless. And I don't do _polite, _I…"_  
_

"Yes, yes, we all know you only do_ ruthless_ and _powerful_, Seto Kaiba," Ishizu replied flippantly, her teasingly formal address making his eyes roll dismissively.

Ishizu and Seto were certainly a set of oddities among this raucous, genial collection; Ishizu had chosen wine, of all things, and Seto had chosen to sulk instead of drink. The rest of the gang paid them no mind as they exchanged cards and stories and swapped glasses of beer, shots of liquor. As it stood, Mai was currently kicking Joey's ass at drinking, surprising utterly no-one; Téa, Bakura, and Duke were watching over Yugi, who, despite his tiny frame and birdlike body mass, insisted on drinking with the rest of them, and Serenity was tugging at Tristan's sleeve, sweetly pleading, "please, Tristan… you know I love watching you sing…"

Tristan's face was bright scarlet as he responded in a hushed whisper: "Serenity, babe, that's something that's _between us… keep your voice down!_"

Ishizu patted Seto on the head, almost condescendingly, as she caught wind of Tristan and Serenity's hushed conversation.

_Karaoke, hmm? Not something I've done before, but…_

She drained her wine glass and whispered smoothly in Seto's ear: "You might want to keep your eyes on me, Seto…"

His head lifted from where it was buried in his arms curiously as Ishizu stood up and motioned for the gang to get out of her way.

"What are ya doing, Ishizu?" questioned Joey drunkenly as Ishizu reached for the shot glass before him that dripped with whiskey and knocked it back, feeling confidence surge through her veins.

"You go, girl!" cheered Mai, clapping her well-manicured hands in delight as Ishizu made her quiet way up to the stage with its tiny, cheap karaoke machine and its squeaky black microphone.

Seto felt himself begin to blush with secondhand embarrassment at what Ishizu was doing. _Good god. This woman._ She constantly surprised him, and usually for the better.

Would this situation prove similar?

Ishizu scrolled through the list of songs that flickered on the neon-green screen and selected one, a smile curling on her lips.

She took her place at the microphone, only half-believing that she was doing this sort of thing—in public, no less.

No matter that Ishizu Ishtar was not a particularly good singer in the first place. She was getting rather bored with Seto's endless grouching at this completely benign occasion, and if her little act helped amuse him…?

_Well, that would be an added benefit._

The first beats of the music began to thrum throughout the bar, while the gang in the booth (save Seto) cheered and clapped for her in encouragement.

Ishizu fixed her eyes on Seto, her gaze nearly sultry under her thick lashes, and slid her coat off her shoulders and onto the ground, revealing her collarbone and a faint hint of cleavage. _Gods, this is embarrassing? What silly thing shall I do next?_

She certainly had Seto's attention. And while Ishizu Ishtar was not gifted with song, her graceful movements and sheer nervous enjoyment of what she was doing somehow made this whole thing seem worth it to him.

Partially, anyway.


	6. Fugu

**Prompt:** Trying food's from each other's countries, Part 1

**Pairing:** Seto x Ishizu (natch)

* * *

"Seto…" Ishizu regarded the plate before her with some trepidation. The _fugu _sashimi was arranged very beautifully in a flower-like, circular mandala-esque pattern— almost _too_ pretty for her to consider eating.

That explained her trepidation. Most certainly. And certainly not because…

"Ishizu, you're_ afraid_, aren't you?" Seto regarded the woman beside him with a smirk. He lifted his glass of sake and took a sip, eyes gleaming in a positively _devilish _manner.

"Well, now that you mention it, I'm not overly fond of the idea of food that could poision me, no," murmured Ishizu, starting to feel rude for not eating. The waiter had long since left the plate on the table, so thank Gods for that. As if she needed to feel any _more_ uncomfortable at this time.

Seto rolled his eyes, a chuckle blossoming under his breath. "Ishizu, trust me. I have not taken you to the most expensive restaurant in Domino City in order to poision you with _fugu._"

"It would be a convenient way to get rid of me, no?" quipped Ishizu, the bluish translucent sashimi appearing to swim in the corner of her eye.

Seto's smirk grew wider; Ishizu's heart fluttered in her chest, as it so often did at that damned _sexy_ look on his face.

He placed a hand on her knee, wrinkling the long skirt under his hands as he gently started to hike it up her leg. Ishizu felt herself blush—thank _Gods_ they were alone—as Seto leaned over to whisper in her ear:

"Now, my dear Ishizu, _why_ would I _ever_ want to get rid of you?"

"I was starting to wonder…" Ishizu trailed off, allowing her hand to travel up to his tie, to pull him in closer.

Two could play at this game easily.

She grasped the slick fabric around his neck and brought his lips to within a hair's breadth of hers.

"Fine, Seto Kaiba," she nearly cooed, an idea alighting itself in her mind. _Ha._"I'll try the _fugu_… on a few conditions."

"Such as?" His breath was warm against her lips, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Such as… you make it worth my while, Seto Kaiba." Ishizu's lips formed a gentle curve as she whispered something into Seto's ear.

Something that made the unflappable Seto Kaiba nearly go pink at her rashness, her _naughtiness_.

"Oh my. _ Miss Ishtar_," returned Seto, his smile positively wolfish. "What else?"

"That you allow me to return the favor, and let me take you out for Egyptian food tomorrow night."

Here Seto pouted, almost giving her the feeling of holding a puppy on a leash. A rich, snobby puppy. "Ishizu… you know I'm a picky eater…"

"And I am not?" Ishizu challenged, letting go of the chopsticks and picking up her chopsticks expertly.

She clicked them together and reached for a piece of the bluish _fugu. _It was a shame to spoil the perfect radial symmetry of the chef's design.

"Besides, I promise I'll make it worth _your_ while."

Seto perked up. "Ah, Ishizu. Let me count the ways in which that suits me _just_ fine." He reached for his chopsticks and picked up a piece of sashimi, meeting her eyes.

She reached her free hand for his.

"On three?"


	7. Woods

**Prompt:** Prideshipping, lost in the woods

**Pairing:** Yami x Seto, Prideshipping

* * *

Yami sat down heatedly on the ground and took in his surroundings, wishing that any of these verdant green trees looked distinct from one another. Perhaps they could find their way out of these blasted woods if they could find some sort of landmark…

"Yugi, this is getting _absurd_. I don't know why you insisted that the two of us stick together—we could _obviously_ cover much more ground if we split up," came the thoroughly annoyed voice of Seto Kaiba. The taller duelist was still standing, glaring down at the smaller duelist with a haughty attempt at apathy. _This dweeb really doesn't know when to quit, does he? At least admit that you've gotten us lost in this virtual prison, and then we can move onward, dammit._

The hold that the so-called Pharaoh seemed to have on him, without knowledge or without trying to, was only serving to fully piss him off. He found himself consciously fighting the urge to stare into the petite man's scarlet eyes, to let his own blue eyes skim over Yami's slender, toned frame like he was eyeing a piece of meat… _Stop. _Best to keep up the pretense that the only source of his poor attitude was anger and loathing, rather than…

…_frustration._

_Frustration that is clearly unreturned._

"I refuse to let you go off on your own, Kaiba," remarked Yami sternly, shaking his head firmly, the blond bangs fluttering around his face. "What purpose could it possibly serve for _both_ of us to get lost in these woods separately?"

Seto's voice was perhaps harsher than it needed to be when he replied: "Well, at least I wouldn't have to be lost with _you_."_  
_

Yami flicked his eyes to his shoes briefly, hoping to hide the flush on his cheeks at the cruelty he should have expected from the ice-cold Seto Kaiba.

He sighed under his breath, forcing himself not to take in the tall drink of water that was Seto Kaiba, with that appealingly husky voice and brown hair that fell into his eyes, without his thinking about how damned _beautiful _it made him look…

_As far as he's concerned, we're merely rivals. Not even friends… and certainly not…_ _more._

Yami finally stood up, legs slightly shaky, and surveyed the never-ending canopy that stretched above the pair of duelists. _The forest really could go on forever. Who knows what Noah's capable of?__  
_

Suddenly, his wide eyes alighted on a tree with a particularly low-hanging branches. _Hmmm… perhaps?_

He slid the Duel Disk off his arm and walked over to the tree. Seto watched him, trying to puzzle out what exactly this strange not-Yugi was hoping to accomplish.

"Yugi, what…"

"Kaiba, I believe that if I can attain enough altitude in this tree, perhaps I could gain sight of where the edge of this virtual forest is." _It's not an awful idea…_

"Isn't that unnecessarily _dangerous_?" blurted out Seto before he could stop himself. He coughed unpleasantly, trying to avoid meeting the smaller duelist's eyes. "I mean, look at you. You're like a twig. You probably can't even climb a tree…"

Yami rolled his eyes, daring himself not to linger on what Seto had just said, and responded by hoisting himself up several feet using a series of strategically picked branches.

Seto looked at Yami's motions in the tree, almost awestruck. He folded his arms across his chest. "See anything yet?" _Idiot. _

_Don't stare at his ass, dammit. Don't…!_

"So far, nothing yet," came back the former Pharaoh's voice. "Oh gods, though, Kaiba… it's really _quite _remarkable. You really must see this…"

While Yami couldn't make out an end to the forest, once he had climbed above the canopy of green, he could take in a _breathtaking_ series of snow-capped mountains and volcanoes gently emitting smoke. Above the tree line, the sky was a brilliant pink-orange, all combed through with _gold._

Yami straddled a branch to steady himself. Despite everything, he found himself closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath. He smiled slightly.

A rustling motion beneath him shot a terror through his veins. _Noah's goons again? _He looked down below him, and saw none other than Seto Kaiba, a twig or two stuck in his chestnut hair, attempting to climb up to where Yami currently sat.

Seto was breathing heavily, and not just from the effort expended in climbing up his high. "Yugi… what the _hell_ are you doing…? Get down from there before one of Noah's spies finds you…"

His hand on the branch where Yami sat began to slip, and without thinking about the dangerous repercussions of such a simple act, Yami shot out his own hand and grabbed Seto's to stop him from falling.

_Gods. _The electricity that licked at Yami's wrist nearly undid him. Seto's hand was strangely soft in his own, the nails digging into the back of his hand evenly trimmed.

Seto let out a gasp despite himself at the feel of the calloused tan hand holding onto his own…saving him. _Fuck._

_I cannot let myself owe him anything._

_Also, fuck this whole damned thing._

Yami helped Seto hoist himself onto the branch where he was perched. Seto slapped his own hand out of Yami's as if the latter had some kind of contact-based disease that he was loath to catch.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Yami asked softly, his brilliant eyes boring into Seto's. _  
_

He only partially meant the view.

Seto gulped and took in what Yami had called him up here to see. _I must be losing it. That's the only explanation._

The view left him without words. As did the way Yami was looking at him right now.

_Like he wants me to…_

_Seto and Yami, sitting in a tree…_

Yami blushed as the old rhyme he'd heard Yugi's friends tease one another with popped into his head. The two men, sitting in this tree above this forest, the whole virtual world seemingly at their fingertips.

In this moment, despite everything, despite Noah's looming presence, looking for Mokuba and the idiot friends of not-Yugi, the threat of Gozaburo…

…That strangely did not matter in this moment.

Seto regarded Yami's trembling lips, his own heart disgustingly aflutter.

"Yeah," he murmured, before leaning in. "Beautiful."


	8. Instruction

**Prompt:** Azureshipping, Girl!Seto, dancing

**Pairing: **Téa x Girl!Seto

* * *

Téa pressed the PAUSE button on the CD player. "If this is too difficult for you, I totally understand if you want to go home ..." she murmured gently to Seto, who was having a devil of a time trying to follow the ballet lesson Téa was attempting to teach.

Despite her tall frame and graceful motions while walking and motion, Seto Kaiba was not a particularly graceful dancer-something she was most definitely the hard way. Standing as she was across from Téa, who went through her movements with far more ease and beauty than really _was_ fair, Seto could only glower as her body refused to respond to her commands.

_Arm up... port de bras... no, no, point the left toe... why does my foot look like a damned banana. This outfit is entirely too flimsy, and how exactly am I supposed to fucking concentrate when Téa's all flouncy and damned pretty like this?_

"Do you think I'm weak, Téa?" muttered Seto, suddenly feeling self-conscious in her leotard and tights... how utterly flat-chested, poky-limbed and inadequate she felt across from the busty, _perfect _Téa Gardner.

Téa's smile never wavered, and she dropped her pose and moved to adjust Seto's clumsy pose. Seto blushed indelicately as Téa's hands smoothed along her flesh, placed her arms in the correct position.

"Seto Kaiba, the last thing you are is weak. It's just that dancing is not easy for everyone! I spent _years_ training to get where I am today..."

"Yeah..." Seto grunted, eyes fixed on the floor. _Don't look at her chest. Don't look at her lips..._

Téa continued, gaily as ever, "... and _believe me_, if we were dueling right now, I'd be just as lost as you are right now..."

This Seto knew to be true, and acknowledged it with a little petulant sigh as she fought to hold the strange turned-out position Téa had her standing in, back straining from her efforts.

Téa giggled and planted a tiny kiss on Seto's nose, which made the taller girl turn nearly purple.

"One more time, Seto... from the top!"


	9. Mutual

**Prompt: Yugi and Téa, hanging out. For Aqua girl 007!**

**Pairing: Peachshipping**

* * *

The two of them had stood like that, eyes watering in the brilliant blaze of the sunset over Domino City, fingers wrapped around the chain-link fence on the roof of the high school, for what must have been an hour at that intently listening to the other's careful breaths, _in, out, in, out_, Yugi furrowing his brow, chewing on the inside of his cheek, Téa perking up whenever she thought she heard him clear his throat. No avail.

The two of them had spent a pleasurable if slightly cautious day together-they had met at Domino Station, grabbed a quick bite, and set out on a stroll throughout the town.

They had enjoyed themselves, to be sure, yet they had both pointedly avoided the arcade.

_It can't go on like this_, she thought halfheartedly, almost miserably, heart thrumming in her chest and eyes prickling.

He was so close-she could reach out her hand, nestle it in his hair, pull him up to his tiptoes and press his lips onto hers... but at this point, could she be sure he wanted that anymore?

Or was it merely the memory of the long-gone Pharaoh she missed, wanted to touch?

_No. It's not that, not anymore... _

Could she be sure?

This suggestion she had increasingly begun to doubt, as the memories and dreams of the proud Pharaoh that had plagued her had begun to be replaced by sweet dreams of her Yugi, not the "other Yugi", the Pharaoh. Just... _her_ Yugi.

The Yugi whose own tender heart shone a light that could never be matched.

Would Téa fall short? She wasn't as smart, as witty as other girls, and far too gawky-looking for him... the petite Rebecca Hawkins, for one, had her reeling in her tracks.

If she were to do what she so _wanted _to do, to prove that she wanted to be _his_ once and for all, with no Pharaoh and no shyness to muddle the moment... what would happen?

Would she ruin their closeness?

Would he reject her?

_The sunset is so beautiful_, she thought witlessly, as the last of the gold was swallowed up into a purple-red blaze of impending night.

It reminded her, cruelly, of his eyes.

Yugi heard her shifting, her constantly agitated body, and felt his heart ache. He felt stupid, utterly so, to have invited Téa on this-this outing, this _date_, whatever she wanted to call it, when he knew he never had a chance with her, and never would.

_She loves-loved the Pharaoh_, he thought painfully. _Not me._

She was beautiful, kind, sophisticated, and she could never find him a worthy replacement. They had made the tenuous journey from classmate to friend to _this_, all with the help of the Pharaoh.

Yet if he were to do what he had longed to do for such a long time now, and reach out his hand...

... and cover hers with it... tilt his chin up to meet hers, lips to her lips...

... he would undoubtedly spoil _everything._

The words bunched against her lips, demanding to be said. "Yu-Yugi," Téa stammered, the taste of his name overripe on her tongue.

Yugi turned his head and regarded her with interest, violet eyes shining in the dimming reflected light. He recognized something dangerous in her own glittering cerulean ones.

"I-I want you to know... gosh, I can't believe I'm saying this, when it's hopeless at this point..." Téa moved her hand to cover his.

Yugi was never quite so red as he was in that moment. Until...

"Yugi, I think I _like_ you." Téa moved her hands to cover her own blush, her chest positively vibrating.

... until _that_. Yugi bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood.

"Téa..."

"I know that you won't believe me because of the Pharaoh, but I promise that it's all in the past now. I like _you_, Yugi..." choked out Téa thickly behind her hands, fighting to keep tears of humiliation from streaming down her face, a rivulet of snot from running into her mouth. _Fuck. I've ruined it now._

"Téa," Yugi began, a tiny chuckle of relief creeping into his voice. He reached his hand to her shoulder, pulled himself towards her and planted a kiss on her hands.

"Me too."

_I like you too, Téa._

_Believe me._

At this, Téa looked at him, eyes blurry, and buried her face in his neck, arms wrapping around him like he would sink into the floor without her.

She murmured against his neck, tickling him, "well, we've got ourselves something on our hands, don't we?"

Yugi held her close. She could feel him nod, and he could feel her heart against his own, as the sky blanketed itself in deep blue.


	10. Reason

**Prompt: ** ** A street rat Joey Wheeler ends up in trouble with some gang thugs and gets some unexpected help from the fierce Mai Valentine; after they escape they share a moment with each other before they part ways. For MegaMovieMonday!  
**

**Pairing: Polarshipping**

* * *

Joey could feel the sweat dripping, all warm and runny, from his hairline and down his nose. A look at his shirt front revealed that it was not sweat after all; it was blood, a fair bit of it.

Joey still felt nothing.

The rivulets of red began to leak from the narrow slit on his forehead rather quicker than they should have; Joey wiped his head with the sleeve of his uniform jacket, not exactly caring that he was ruining it.

"Looks like Blondie's gearing up for round two, huh?" The thugs standing over him shared a brutal chuckle as they circled him once more.

He hadn't meant to get into an alleyway fight like this again; it had been _such_ a long time since he'd felt like this, like he was _looking_ for a fight. This... _angry_, he supposed, but also... _numb_. Numb enough, feeling that throbbing, cold emptiness, that hollow in his chest that made him leave the apartment, tiptoeing past Serenity's room where she slept soundlessly-the sleep of the untroubled, the innocent...

"I still got more, ya pricks."

He'd began prowling the streets of his neighborhood at that indecent, god-early hour, yowling and screeching between puffs of a cigarette he'd found in a pocket.

_Come and get me. _

_I ain't gonna run. _

_Come get me, ya fuckers. _

"Well, we'll certainly oblige ya..."

Joey realized, almost flippantly, that they were just now breaking a few of his ribs.

He wasn't exactly sure _why_ he was doing this, this childish business he'd been known for back in middle school. The gang brawls, the split lips and beer-bottle cuts on his arms and legs...

Nothing had felt quite right since the Pharaoh left, he supposed.

After he'd befriended Yugi and Téa way back at the beginning of high school, there hadn't been any _need_ for getting into these pointless scrapes just for the hell of it. He'd been able to drown out those dark, angry feelings with those of genuine love and friendship.

After Serenity had been taken away, Joey hadn't been able to _feel_ those kinds of things until Yugi had taken him under his tiny, fragile wing, a promise of gentleness, of eternity on his lips.

He'd felt anger and rage before, but never _this._

And yet, with the Pharaoh gone, with Joey's once-extraordinary days turned rote and pointless, that the rage, the fury, the love and happiness were being swallowed up by this nothing, this nothing that took all of his feelings and replaced them with a void.

What was this _eternity? _

Why wasn't the gang enough? Why wasn't _anything enough anymore?_

At night he still saw the dark corners of that place Marik had sent him so long ago.

Joey coughed up a bit of phlegmy blood and crumpled to the ground, eyelids struggling to stay open under the piling weight of blood.

He closed his eyes and waited rather resignedly for the feeling of a sneaker on his skull.

Suddenly a pair of headlights cut through the darkness of the alleyway, accompanied by a zooming sound and a series of obnoxious honking sounds.

"Hey, what's going on..." one of the thugs called out in wonderment as the convertible knocked over several trashcans in its advance towards the men standing around Joey.

Joey heard the hasty application of brakes, then the sounds of a car door opening and slamming shut, the sound of heels on pavement...

The cocking of a gun.

"Shit." "Come on, lady, we don't mean any harm."

"Get the _fuck_ away from him." A finger pulling a trigger. A shot firing into a nearby mailbox.

The sound of sneakers on the ground, growing quieter and quieter.

Long hair tickling his face.

A sweet smell of perfume...

Joey's eyes fluttered open at the feel of soft, long-fingered hands on his forehead.

"What are you _doing_, you big dummy?" came the petulant, scolding voice of one Mai Valentine, whose violet eyes shone with the twin emotions of concern and disappointment...

Concern for his current condition, disappointment in his being in said condition.

"M-Mai, I..." Joey's tongue grew thick, his neck warm, as he struggled to sit up.

_Fuck. _

_I didn't want her to see me like this..._

Mai put the safety on her pistol and replaced it in her garter-holster (_of course, _Joey managed to think), and helped him sit up.

A tear escaped from his eye and dripped off his chin. Joey wished it had been blood.

Finally, he _felt _the rewards of the blows he had suffered only minutes before.

"Fuck. Fuuuuuck..." His entire body shot through with acute pain.

"Well, what the fuck were you _doing_, Joey?" Mai's voice was soft, rounded with a sort of breathiness that sent shivers down Joey's spine.

_Is she_..._ really worried?_

_About me?_

"No ifs, ands, or buts, Joey, I'm taking you to the hospital." The firmness and audible pout in her voice returned; she clearly relished being able to give orders and have him take them.

He could only nod as Mai helped him to his shaking feet.

He felt like vomiting teeth.

He nearly blacked out from the pain and Mai half-guided, half-carried him to the passenger seat of the convertible. Her hand lingered perhaps longer than it needed to on his shoulder before rising to his neck, but Joey certainly didn't mind.

Once they were on their way, Mai driving the car smoothly on the empty Domino Streets in the early morning light, she finally spoke up again.

"Joey, what were you _doing_ over there?"

With some effort, Joey turned his head to wink at her. He almost sounded like himself as he teased, "aw Mai... I didn't know ya were _worried_ about me..."

"I'm not in the mood for games, _Joseph._"

"Ah, ya wanna use my full name. Looks like ya wanna get _serious. _What, do ya suddenly _care_ about me all of a sudden?" Joey rambled before he could stop himself.

Mai stopped the car abruptly at a red light, causing Joey nearly to be sick as the seatbelt strained and scraped against his bruised chest.

"Joey. What even..." Her voice was exasperated and resigned at his unnecessary callousness, coming out in a bit of a sigh at the end.

Joey looked at his hands and immediately wished he hadn't. The broken nails and bloodied knuckles made everything worse.

"Mai... nothing's been the same since..." Joey muttered, his words tasting sour on his tongue.

"...Since the Pharaoh left," Mai finished haltingly, looking up from the windshield to look at him quizzically.

_Since there's no longer any reason for me to be here. _

_What happens to the hero after he fulfills his destiny?_

_They never write about that part in the books, do they?_

"Joey, I'm not saying I believe in all that Pharaoh and destiny crap, but you can't let it..." Mai began, that familiar scolding tone coming back into her voice as she made a wide turn.

"No, Mai, _I saw it. He left. He lost to Yugi in a duel and then he just left us. _Gone. Kaputt. Nada!" Joey cut her off, feeling that familiar anguish twist his insides.

"So what, Joey?"

_She still doesn't get it._

Joey struggled to keep the tears out of his voice as he muttered thickly, "well, what am _I _supposed to do now?"

_I'm never going to help save the world again._

_The line of destiny ended with the Pharaoh leaving._

_What is left to do for me? _

_Why the fuck am I still alive?_

"Why the fuck am I still alive...?" he whispered aloud without realizing it, feeling that emptiness replace all the physical pain that flooded his every vein.

Mai's eyes widened for a moment as she pulled over in front of the local hospital.

Her voice was almost sad as she responded, "well, Joey, can't you think of at least _one_ reason...? One person who... who wouldn't mind it if you were around?"

Joey nearly swallowed his tongue in reply to the closest thing to a confession Mai had ever made.

_What the fuck...?_

_Does this mean she..._

And despite everything, despite the rain that roared wetly in his ears at his every breath, Joey felt a small smile curl on his lips.

An EMT noticed the car and approached, looking concerned at Joey's rather unpleasant condition.

"Now get out of my car and into the emergency room before I kick you out, Joseph Wheeler."


	11. Smoky

"Wanna dance?"

The words were soaked through in liquor. Overly smooth. Rough at the edges. Slipping from his mouth in careless strokes.

His mouth. The lips so red, his tongue briefly making itself visible as he licked those lips. Lifted the glass from the counter, raised it to her, and took another sip of the amber-colored liquid.

"You're drunk." Ishizu turned towards the man sitting beside her in the dimly-lit bar. His mere presence in this place a surprise, though, she reasoned, hers more so.

A CEO and a curator meet in a bar…

… after what must have been…

Five years?

"Maybe so." He ran a hand through his chestnut hair, smiling lazily at her with glinting eyes. Something intoxicating floated briefly between them as Ishizu crossed her legs. His eyes dropping casually to her lap.

He swirled his glass a bit before setting it back down on the counter.

Ishizu pressed her lips together, feeling a strange flutter rush through her as she spoke.

"I never took you as one for dancing."

Seto turned to face her fully, rotating himself on the round bar stool. His thighs spreading as he leaned forward slightly, propping his head up in his elbow resting on the bar.

He simply smirked at her. Willing her to continue. Demanding more of her. Something. Her rich, melodic voice to ring through the air again.

The silence hung in the air until Ishizu cleared her throat. Clasped her hands in her lap.

"Come to think of it, Seto Kaiba… What are you doing here?"

In such a strange place–a tiny bar located on the seedy side of Domino.

His smirk widened. Voice coming out a mixture of arrogance and something Ishizu couldn't quite name.

"Can't a grown man have his pleasures, Ishizu?"

At that word, Ishizu couldn't help but inhale sharply. Pleasures…

Looking at her that way…

Seto chuckled under his breath and drained his glass. "On that note, my question still stands."

Ishizu blushed and turned back to the bar, placing her elbows on the smooth wooden slab and trying to control her voice.

"It's not exactly the venue for dancing…"

He cut her off, rising from his stool and approaching her. His gait strong and controlled despite the undoubtedly copious amounts of liquor he'd consumed.

Suddenly he was beside her. Reaching over and taking her hand in his, something like a spark passing between them at this simple touch. Shuddering through her as she flicked her eyes over to his.

He lifted his free hand and gestured towards the air. "Sure it is…"

His other thumb made a circle on her palm as Ishizu suddenly heard it, her thighs trembling as she felt his hair on the soft skin of her hand. Music. A low jazzy sound drenched in smoke. A lonely saxophone and some slow drum patter.

"Ah." She swallowed the sound as she felt his eyes burning into hers. Challenging her. Hazy but growing clearer. Intent.

On pleasures.

And how he could go about them…

Ishizu smiled nervously, sliding off her bar stool as Seto led her away from the counter. Towards the back wall of the bar, only three feet or so behind.

She nearly gasped aloud as she felt his hands slide along her waist. Pulling her hips to his. Him purring in her ear. "May I?"

The music roared through her, sultry and languorous as she gently moved her hands to his shoulders. Grasping at the fine fabric of his suit jacket.

The two of them standing there. Looking at one another strangely. Heat shimmering between them as he began to sway from side to side, bringing her with him as she stepped in time to the music. Slightly awkwardly. Not sure how much of a swing to put into her hips.

"You're not half bad at this." His hands burned through the fabric of her gown, his voice traveling down her spine. Soaking through her.

"Thank you," she managed to mutter as she felt the wall of the bar against her back. Suddenly. His hips against hers, eyes suddenly shy as he ceased moving. Pinning her in place.

His forehead coming to rest against hers. His lips so very red. And wet.

Want tore through her, raking through her like fingers.

She smiled up at him gently, then shut her eyes reflexively as she felt his lips on hers. The sweet-sour taste of whatever he'd been drinking on his tongue. His lips.

Speaking all sorts of things. The kinds of things that arise in five years. Newness. Something utterly bizarre.

Pleasures.

As he pulled away, lips parted slightly, a toothy smile lighting up his face. Ishizu blushed and pulled him in again, her hands gripping the fabric tightly. "You're not half bad yourself."


	12. Covet

"Hey! I was gonna eat that!"

Ishizu replied to his complaint simply with a smirk, taking a neat bite of the last piece of chocolate cake. It sat on her plate, a thick luscious slab all darkly sweet and perfectly chilled, with a coil of airy whipped cream on top.

Seto narrowed his eyes in annoyance as she licked her lips for effect, that arch, smug look settling on her features.

"Ah, well. You snooze, you lose, as I believe your brother would say…" She sucked on the tines of her fork for effect as the man across from her tried to continue glowering at her.

"Nn."

He watched her cut off another bite of the coveted cake with the side of her fork as she spoke, stabbing the treat and lifting it to her mouth. "In fact, I'd say your reflexes seem to have gotten–"

She let out a mild yelp of surprise as Seto lunged across the round kitchen table, covering her hand with his and guiding the slice of cake to his own mouth, his devious half-smile echoing her quickly fading one.

He swallowed the dessert with an emphasized gulp as she watched, fighting the urge to chuckle at her expression. Pulling the fork out of Ishizu's grasp, he allowed it to clatter to the table.

Eyes glittering with mischief and victory, he pulled her fingers to his lips and licked off a smudge of whipped cream, sending a strange shiver rushing through her as she bit down on her lower lip. Hard.

"You were saying?"


	13. Notice

"I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."

His words shivered hotly down her spine as she fought to keep her composure. Calm. Unflappable.

As if he had hit the mark exactly. The bullseye. The way he leaned back in his seat as he took a sip of ice water, the glass careless in his hand. The words dripping from his tongue, layered in velvet. A hint of scorn playing about the edges.

His legs uncrossing and recrossing. The lines of his body endless and deliciously lean.

Just the thing to throw off her once-flawless composure.

As if he had already won some sort of game they were playing. A game she hadn't agreed to participate in.

He always made her slip up like this.

Her hands clenched together in her lap, palms shocked into dampness. Heat searing into her neck. Cheeks. Hopefully he wouldn't notice.

And if he did…

She could have sworn she heard him laugh at her. Rumbling lightly from deep within his chest.

She didn't dare meet his eyes.

Somehow words tumbled from between tight lips, dry. As if she were tugging them back in, threads tangled in her fingers.

Foolish things.

Impossible things.

The threads snapping. The mask slipping.

"And if I have?"

Braver than she felt.

More coy than she felt.

Stepping onto a thin layer of ice.

She flicked her eyes up towards his mouth just in time to see his mouth tighten. Parentheses appearing on either side of his full lips.

His voice impossibly thick with a sneer as he responded. Eyes twinkling cruelly as he leaned forward. Placed his glass down on the low table between them with a light clink.

Then he leaned across the table, grasping the arms of her chair. That familiar half-smile curling on his lips as his forehead rested against hers for the briefest of moments.

Her heart fluttered higher and higher into her throat as his fresh scent made her mouth water. Her fists tighten. Knuckles straining. Her thighs pressing together beneath the thin fabric of her skirt.

"You'd do best to keep your gaze to yourself, Ishizu."

Yet he leaned still forward, stifling the sharp breath she took as his lips brushed against hers. Heat passing between them all starry and fragile. Swallowing her surprise. Her skin prickling with gentle hums as his hand slid up her arm. Fingers brushing against her neck, alighting trails of sensation, curling within. Closer.

She pulled away first. Eyes meeting his, all wet and bright and flooded with a strange sense of victory.

"And if I don't want to?" Her words a throaty whisper. Tickling. Challenging.

In response, Seto stood and smoothed out his trenchcoat, picking invisible specks of dust from the immaculate surface of the white fabric. As if he were suddenly done with this useless facsimile of a conversation. Better things to do.

Always better things to do.

"Then stop merely looking and do something about it."

His footsteps echoed softer and softer as he left the room, shutting the door behind him with a satisfying click.

Ishizu slid down to crumple in her seat, the wind knocked out of her. Blood heating in her veins, her fingers lifting to her lips as a small, modest smile appeared beneath them.


	14. Tequila

Ishizu wiped her eyes as the tequila flooded her throat, the bite of the salt and the sting of the lime juice adding another kick to the strength of the drink. "Your turn."

Seto smiled lazily at her from across the low coffee table and reached for the bottle of clear liquid and the shot glass, pouring himself a healthy dose without spilling a drop. Then those graceful hands reached for another slice of lime. The glass saltshaker, the spilled grains forming a fine layer on the wooden table.

He sprinkled a bit of salt on the webbing between his thumb and index finger, pausing for a moment before commencing with his turn.

Ishizu noticed his movements grow slow, a tiny, teasing smile lighting at one corner of her mouth. "Had enough already?"

Seto's eyes gleamed darkly. "Far from it." And as Ishizu watched intently, eyes nearly fixated on his lips, he licked the salt off his hand, knocking it back with the cheap liquor, followed by the bite of lime to chase it all down.

He closed his eyes and winced slightly as something like the ninth or tenth such drink slid down his throat. Yet Ishizu seemed barely touched by the copious amounts of alcohol she'd consumed, and there was no way in hell he was losing.

"How in the hell does a museum curator know how to drink so well?" he groused as Ishizu reached for the bottle of tequila, and poured herself another shot.

Her smile was seraphic as she sprinkled salt on her hand and moved another slice of lime in front of her. "You'd be surprised how much alcohol is consumed at museum galas. Being able to hold your liquor better than some rich patron is always advantageous in such matters."

Seto ducked his head in acknowledgment as he watched her take her shot, accompanied by her salt and lime slice. Watched her lick her lips as she shook her head, breath coming out in a slight cough.

He smirked. "Had enough?"

Ishizu coughed again and held up a hand, trying to breathe more deeply. "Went… down… the wrong pipe…" Her shoulders shook as she coughed again, this time a bit more cleanly, eyes watering as she blushed under his triumphant gaze.

As she recovered, she moved the bottle and shot glass back towards his side of the table. "Gods, this tequila tastes terrible–"

Seto's smirk widened, feeling something flutter in his chest as he grabbed ahold of her wrist.

"I can think of something that tastes better."

Noticing a bit of salt still lingering on her hand, he leaned forward slightly and gently licked it off, eyes never leaving hers as his tongue brushed against her skin, lingering longer than was wholly necessary.

Ishizu inhaled sharply as his words sent vibrations through her skin. Her belly. Her thighs.

"Well?" she managed to get out in as even a tone as possible.

He looked positively triumphant as he pulled on her wrist, forcing her to lean across the table towards him, her other arm bracing against the wood for balance.

"I think there's room for further exploration. Wouldn't you say so?"

And he leaned forward to press his lips to hers, them both tasting salt, lime, cheap tequila, and something much sweeter altogether.

Victory was a better flavor than he had anticipated.


	15. Surprise

He'd been in town only a short while. Something about helping to organize a Duel Monsters tournament in Cairo.

He'd changed since she'd last seen him. No longer a scowling young man, limbs naturally lanky but held and bent to his will with the tightest of control. A too-smart, too proud elegant peacock of a young boy who's dared to challenge her mindset. His triumph ever a blessing, no matter how rudely and cruelly it had been wrought.

The ever-present line between his brows had since smoothed over with an air of confidence. He was-dare she think it-softer, somehow. Grown-up. Lashings-out reduced to a minimum. Pleasant conversation managing to spill from his lips with only a modicum of effort. Faint parentheses on the corners of his mouth suggesting he now smiled more than he had in the past. Voice more even. Less inclined to rise in pitch when panicked or irritated.

Indeed, he'd matured enough to ask her to lunch before he departed for Japan once more. His voice steady, something like flash of anticipation in his eyes when he'd asked her-

And for her to say yes-

-it shouldn't have felt quite like this.

It was a welcome change to be sitting across from him, separated by propriety and a crisp white tablecloth.

It's only for that reason that it's nice to see him, Ishizu reminded herself fruitlessly as her teeth threatened to cut into her lower lip like the slick silverware slicing up the mixed grilled vegetables on her plate.

Certainly not because she was now able to have a conversation with him that involved merely an eyeroll rather than a snarl when their views diverged.

Certainly not because she'd somehow managed to make him laugh. Not entirely unkindly. Just enough like himself to set her at ease.

It was certainly not because this strange vision of Seto Kaiba on the other side of the table appealed to her beyond that. Beyond a certain... friendly acknowledgement that the boy had become a man.

Certainly nothing more than that-

"Had any visions lately...?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Seto prop his elbows on the table, fixing her with a tiny smirk. The boy she remembered.

He was galling her.

Ishizu returned his faint smug smile, placing her elbows on the table and tucking her chin onto clasped hands.

"I don't think you actually want to go down this road with me, Seto Kaiba..."

Seto shrugged sharply, thin shoulders rising and dropping like the limbs of a marionette. "Fair enough."

Ishizu crossed her legs uncomfortably as Seto raised his hand to catch a nearby server's eye.

"The check, if you don't mind-"

"Would you like to see a dessert menu, sir?"

A twitch of a frown pulled at the corner of Seto's mouth. He checked his delicate wristwatch and dipped his head, more to himself than to the server.

"The check." His voice was suddenly stony. Firm. The voice of someone used to getting his way.

Silence poured into the space between them like a glass of water as the server collected their plates and departed, then brought back the bill. Seto signed his name with a dramatic flourish and checked his watch again, that old familiar line etching itself into his brow.

"Not to cut lunch short, Ishizu, but I do have to get back to Domino-I have a prototype for a new game I have to test out-" His voice was threaded through with an air of displeasure as he rose and smoothed out the front of his black suit.

She supposed he'd stopped wearing trenchcoats years ago.

Of course. Ishizu dutifully rose and extended her hand to him. "I think your tournament will be a success."

"For the sake of the commissioner's job, let's hope so." The words characteristically wry on his tongue as he took her hand in his and shook it briskly.

Ishizu could only hope he didn't notice the dampness of her palm.

Yet Seto didn't let go of her hand right away. Another smile curling on his lips as they made eye contact, Ishizu's cheeks warming at the directness of his gaze.

"It's been a pleasure," Seto continued, his voice suddenly quieter. More serious.

Almost...shy?

"May I?"

And before Ishizu could ask for clarification, he lifted her trembling hand to his mouth and brushed his lips against it.

Ishizu was nearly floored by the rush that tore through her at this strange touch.

Dropping her hand, he met her wide-eyed look, a wide grin of satisfaction spreading on his face as he bowed his head.

"I hope our paths cross again, Ishizu Ishtar."

As Seto turned and walked out of the restaurant, Ishizu licked her lips nervously, the hand he had kissed seemingly ablaze with sensation.

Knees weak, she dropped back into her seat, her breathing suddenly shallow, coming out as a pant.

The server paused by the table. "Everything all right, ma'am?"

Ishizu cleared her throat thickly. "Yes-thank you. Just-just give me a minute."

Despite the lightheaded feeling keeping her in her chair, she couldn't resist letting out a murmured giggle.


	16. Reunion

"Well, this is awkward…"

The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them. His cheeks pinking more than he'd have liked them to.

He fought a reflexive grimace as he gazed down at the woman standing before him, her face perfectly composed with a modest smile, hands folded in front of her. Canvas dress replaced with a simple blouse and pants in the same beige color, all perfectly unruffled. Not a hair out of place in her braided hair. Eyes gleaming with a quiet, unbidden pleasure at seeing him again.

Ishizu laughed, a pleasant tinkling sound that made Seto furrow his brow in an exaggerated show of annoyance at seeing her here. At this tournament. Neither a contestant this time; the two-highest ranked duelists from Duel Academy's Obelisk Blue scheduled to duel one another next as the finalists.

"It's nice to see you here, Seto Kaiba." She extended a delicate hand; he shook it as if in a daze. Was she here with thoughts of some mystic crap of the same sort she'd managed to foist upon his own Battle City tournament all those years ago?

As if sensing his apprehension, Ishizu smiled broadly as she spoke. "Don't worry, Seto–I'm not here to turn this tournament into–what was it you said in Egypt?–a 'circus sideshow'?"

Her perfect memory of what he'd said in bitterness and arrogance making his eyes water with embarrassment. Slightly self-consciously, he folded his arms in front of his chest and shifted his weight a bit.

"Then why are you here?"

More petulantly than he would have liked.

Ignoring his rudeness, she merely raised an eyebrow and folded her hands once more. "I have business with the Domino Museum. We're facilitating another cultural exchange with the Cairo Museum. It seems as though Domino has been bitten by the Egyptology bug as of late…"

Damned Egypt and everything he'd tried to forget. Damn it all. Damn the visions that had plagued his mind ever since the other Yugi had vanished into a bright light, leaving noting but dust in his wake.

"It's wonderful to see your Duel Academy flourishing like this, Seto," she continued, turning her head to look down upon the playing field underneath the massive dome.

"Yes–the duelists are training to become the highest caliber in the world. Except, of course, for me." He couldn't resist smirking as he followed her gaze.

"You're creating not only a future for yourself and for these other duelists–you've created a legacy that will truly make your name known for years to come." Her eyes shone earnestly as she turned back to face him, braid swinging over her shoulder in a disgustingly comely way.

Damn her. Phrasing things like that. Like she understood–

"I guess you could say it that way," he replied, trying to let her words roll off his back all oily and quickly. Not to let her get to him. Under his skin this way. The way she always did.

"I'm curious, Seto Kaiba," she began, her voice lower and thoughtful in a way that made him shiver, hoping she wouldn't notice.

"Have you–have you found what you've been seeking?"

His cheeks bloomed furiously red, his words coming out a cracked sputter. "What in the hell–"

He felt her arm clasping his own under the suit jacket. Gently but firmly. As if to soothe and steady. The pressure of her hand doing a number on his sanity, sweat beading under his hands and threatening to roll down his cheek.

"The answers. The answers to the questions you won't let yourself ask." She met his eyes once more, the blue-green clear and almost beseeching. Knowing. All strange and honest and making his throat dry up.

"When you do want to ask those questions, Seto Kaiba–you know where to find me." Her hand slid down his arm to slide into his, giving it a slight but noticeable squeeze.

Before Seto could protest, to cry out and pull his hand from the bizarrely comforting warmth of hers, to deny all of what she'd said, she'd turned on her heel and disappeared into the throng of fans as strangely and suddenly as she'd arrived.


	17. Bed

"Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"

He'd just finished unhooking his tie from beneath his collar, carelessly letting his suit jacket crumple to the floor in a puddle around his bare feet. The soles ached. His wrists even more so. Damned carpal tunnel catching up with him–

It had been an unconscionably long day at the office. Idiots nattering on incessantly making his head throb. He'd come come hoping only to have some damned peace and quiet–

He'd stopped dead in his tracks when he'd seen her out of the corner of his eye, sure it had been a trick of the light.

Her. Lying like that. In his bed. Body half-hidden beneath the supple blue comforter. Chest and shoulders exposed to him, as were those sparkling blue-green eyes in that damned superior face. Eyebrows arched as if to issue a challenge. Lips curled into a half-smirk as she regarded the reddening of his cheeks. The dilating of his pupils. The things he could not control. The physiology.

The sound of the giggle she made in response to his question–the way the arrogance of his voice had cracked and broken sharply sharply–carried towards him as if on a breeze. Suffusing him. All too aware of everything.

It was to his credit that he did not sputter furiously in response. That he did not ruin a perfectly good shirt with a nosebleed. No. It seemed as if she were surprised that he'd managed to hold himself together, judging by the way one eyebrow raised itself curiously at him.

"You don't seem so surprised to see me here." Her voice all soft and intelligent. Low. Good-humored, as if enjoying a private joke at his expense. As she undoubtedly was. Typical.

He licked his lips nervously, the strain of holding together the facade beginning to weigh on him. His underarms suddenly damp. As were his palms. Words failing. Any remark he could think to make both too large and too small in his mouth to consider uttering. The sounds of a reply all bitter and too-sweet. Like saccharine coating something more unpleasant.

She shifted on the mattress, daring–daring!–to sit up in his bed, gracefully, like some painted odalisque figure. Allowing the coverlet to slide further down those lush hips. Revealing further things he hadn't wanted to think about as she moved her legs beneath the fabric. One thigh and calf revealing itself–then another–

He most certainly hadn't wanted to think of those things. Ever.

Although now that they had been presented to him–

He dug his teeth into his lower lip to stop his damned mind from wandering. Wandering there.

Can a mind wander if it is already in the place where it oughtn't be?

Her eyes widened, shining with a false innocence, a slight capriciousness as she lifted the quilt from where it rested on her hips.

His head began to throb even more as he forced his eyes to the floor. The grains of the carpet burning into the backs of his eyes. Not daring. He couldn't. Not like this. Not when she was a damned intruder–

–strangely unwelcome and welcomed–

He heard soft padding sounds on the rug as he stared at it like it could solve all his problems. A shadow falling across his feet. A hand on his cheek, the slightly callused surface of her palm sending a dizzying sensation through his spine. Pants growing less comfortable as he gritted his teeth.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" Her voice was teasing. Light and airy as she tipped his chin upwards with a single finger. Him fighting to keep his eyes closed as he was encouraged to pan up her body. Soak it all in.

Maybe a stronger man than he–

By the time he reached those smiling eyes, his lips were trembling. Eyes watering as he looked down at her. Her own lips full and wet. Something electric licking from her hand to his face incessantly.

"Kiss me."

Before he could think better of it, he'd nearly moaned in response to her demand. His hand sliding up her arm to grasp at her shoulder as he lowered his head to brush his lips against her own. Some kind of wild cry of victory, of satisfaction, repeating in his head as he felt the heat of her lips, so close to his own–

Then everything went dark with a slight blip.

His hand grasping onto nothing.

Everything around him throughly blacked out and chilly as he lifted his head roughly, heart pounding in his chest, his belly, his mouth as he balled his hands up into tight, unforgiving firsts.

A familiar cruel, high-pitched laugh ringing out in the darkness, making his blood run cold. The noise childlike.

The sounds of fingers dancing along what sounded like a computer keyboard echoing in the endless space as the almost shrill giggle faded into words, dropping as they did with a coyness that made up in malice for what they lacked in true lightness.

"Enjoy that, Seto?"


End file.
